Falling for the Moeraki Boulders isn’t hard at all, falling on takes a bit more skill. These sweet as (kiwi term we have adopted) looking round mystery boulders sit partially buried in the sand of the beach. They are just as strange and interesting to walk up to as when you see your first photo of them.
We were lucky enough to stay at a great campsite not even a ten minute drive from the lazy beach loving boulders (which was a great site too). The owner of the site warned us that a cafe was built up the hill from the boulders and charged people money to walk down some steps to see the circular rocks. There is literally a parking lot where you can park and walk down the sand for not even ten minutes and see them for free. Assholes always trying to make a dollar from the tourists at every chance.
Walking up to the boulders along the beach is a much cooler experience than walking down a flight of stairs. Slowly we walked up to them and each step they grew larger and larger and seemed to multiply. We had obviously only ever seen photos so we assumed there would be a small handful of them. Wrong again, reoccurring theme. They are EVERYWHERE and HUGE. They stretch from one side of the beach to the other and vary in size, quality and roundness.
They’re a lot bigger than we thought. We figured we would show up and they would be maybe the size of a basketball or an exercise ball. But these things are much larger than that, on the bigger scale they are probably at least a metre tall! Clearly photos don’t do these things justice.
Perfect photography conditions and we timed it at sunset. We are getting the hang of this whole travel timing thing.
I set up my camera patiently waiting for the sun to disappear over the horizon and broadcast a range of pinks and oranges. I couldn’t stand still though because the reciding water had created somewhat of a quick sand. If I stood for too long my shoe would begin to disappear into the sandy abyss.
Andy can never stand still and he was walking between the boulders and jumping from rock to rock waiting for me to take that one picture (story of his life). As I waited for the sun to drop below the horizon a bit more I watched as his little boy side came alive. From rock to rock to rock, jumping along without a care in the world.
And then it happened. The glorious fall.
With the next jump his feet betrayed him and the slippery rock won. It seemed to happen in slow motion as gravity pulled him down. He quickly looked up, shocked, as I burst out laughing. His pants and shirt got wet and they smelled of fish and seaweed for the rest of the day and sat in our laundry for a few days until we managed to get to a washing machine.
Beauty and humour, Moeraki was a win.